


Flicker

by Angelwingsl3 (Marie_Fanwriter)



Series: Macen & Avitus [6]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Angst, Feels, M/M, M/M Rares 2018, Post-Game(s), Spectre Requisitions Rare Pair Exchange 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 16:57:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13885131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_Fanwriter/pseuds/Angelwingsl3
Summary: Waiting for a rescue that hasn’t come.





	Flicker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GalaxyWanderer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyWanderer/gifts).



 

Request by GalaxyWanderer

Likes: Emotionally charged stories, not necessarily angst, but could be that as well.

\- - -

It was raining again, it always seemed to be raining here. The water came down in droves outside, it was the biggest downpour they’d had in a while and Macen watched it from his makeshift cot. There was a stream of water flowing inside of the shelter, and he watched that too. It wasn’t as though he could do anything about it, he’d been bedridden since waking up weeks ago.

Or… at least he thought it was weeks. Time was funny here, the days and nights bled together without a proper diurnal rhythm to them in the constant twilight brightness. The plants were bioluminescent and the clouds usually thick, so the planet didn’t really seem to have a proper idea of what time it was. The oak-plated turian also tended to sleep a lot, there wasn’t much else he could do.

Very carefully, he rolled onto his good side. His back turned to the shelter’s opening as he shut his eyes and tried to will away the nausea that sat heavy in his gut from the tiny movement. They were long out of pain medication, food was scarce. There wasn’t much to eat on this jungle planet for turians, and what there was lacked protein. The creatures they’d managed to kill had all been inedible without processing, so they were relying on damaged equipment to make the nutrients digestible for themselves. Escape pods weren't equipped for stints this long on a near uninhabitable world.

It was miserable.

Everything about this blasted planet was waterlogged, from its weather to its vegetation. Even his, usually high, spirits were dampened down. This wasn’t what he’d expected when he’d agreed to come to Andromeda. Not even in his worst case scenarios was this the end. Macen wanted to see the stars again or hell, even just this planet’s sun for once. He also wanted his mate.

A low keen erupted unbidden from the turian’s chest and he curled in on himself under his ragged blanket. “I’m going to die here...”

The sobs wracked him for a handful of minutes until he managed to get himself back under control, it wasn’t the first time he’d dissolved into keening, and it wouldn’t be the last. At least he was alone. He’d heard the others with him doing the same thing over the course of the past few weeks, the occurrence becoming more frequent as rations ran lower and lower. Even Dea had broken down one night and lost her composure.

Hope was running out.

The small group of the ship’s crew, seven turians in all, had no way off this planet. On the Natanus, Macen had thought that he was going to die. A piece of whatever it was they’d hit had shredded his armor. He’d been bleeding out, absolutely sure that he was going to die right then and there. But he’d managed to get to Avitus’ stasis pod. Even through the fogged over viewport he’d been able to see him one last time.

That was when he’d begun transferring SAM to his mate.

But it hadn’t worked. The AI was still half in his head when he woke up. Useless to them as it would only continue repeating his last word: _brighter_. As if he really needed to be reminded that the only glimpse he’d managed to get of Andromeda’s stars had been as the life faded from his eyes. The last moment he’d been able to trace his green eyes across his partner’s faded black markings.

Captain Praeton, Dea, had found and dragged him to the escape pod. They’d been jettisoned towards the nearest M class planet along with the rest of the living crew. Life support had been destroyed, the Natanus was failing. There had been no way to salvage the ark as it was and he believed her when she’d explained it to him.

Macen had barely survived a makeshift surgery, done in the back of the nonsterile escape pod by a field medic and their pilot. As it was, he was no use to his team. He could share knowledge, fix small technical equipment problems that fit in his hands, but that was it. He couldn’t walk, couldn’t sit up for long. Given a few more weeks infection would set in from the constant dampness and he’d fall asleep one last time.

Sometimes he wished that time would come sooner rather than later, but sometimes he held on to hope. If Avitus had survived then he’d come for him. He knew it with every fibre of his being that if his mate was alive, then Avi would come.

He had to.

Noise outside the shelter brought him out of his daze. The team had returned, the injured Pathfinder could hear sloppy, wet footsteps coming from the boggy jungle floor. Carefully he rolled onto his back again, eyes shutting against the nausea.

“Barro, are you awake?” It was Dea. Her flanging, dual-toned voice was easy to pick out from the rest of the group.

“Yeah. What did you find?”

He felt warmth as she neared him, and he looked up to see that she was starting a fire in the shelter with an armload of sticks. The flame was slow to flicker to life as she ignited the damp wood with her omnitool. It gave off a musty smell and a fair amount of black smoke as the sticks caught fire. Steam made the branches sizzle.

“Silas and Hesperus are back,” she told him without looking up from her task. “They found wreckage from the ark.”

Macen shot upwards, regretting it immediately as he pulled at his wounds. “Ahg… what?”

Dea turned around and ushered him back down onto the cot with a cool reprimand, “Quit moving so much, Pathfinder. They’re about an hour out still, just back in com range with the storm. No lifesigns, but they found some equipment.”

“Equipment?” he asked through clenched teeth. His mind was spinning through the possibilities, and the first one that came to mind was: “Something with galena in it?”

She nodded. “Yeah. That’s what they said.”

“Can you-”

“Fraxus is already getting the rest of the radio components from the escape pod. He’ll be back well before the other two are.” The Captain left his side and moved back to the fire, helping it along. “If you can get that ancient radio design working...”

“Only if there’s someone in range,” he reminded her gently. Although, the range of the crystal radio he’d built was fairly far. It would give them an ultra-high frequency to broadcast an SOS on. A lead sulfide crystal was the best semiconductor he could hope for because it didn’t need to be treated before he could put it into use like the more commonly found silicon ones in the rest of the equipment they had with them.

The flames started to flicker a bright orange as the branches finished drying and the smoke died down to a smoulder. Macen pushed himself up into a sitting position, it was painful but he needed to get his hands warm enough to work.

“Someone must be looking for us,” Dea said quietly as she sat down beside him on the cot. “We just need to get a better signal out there. This can’t be it.”

Macen placed his hand on her knee, squeezing gently. “Avi will come for us.”

“I hope you’re right.”


End file.
